Yanki Years
by TeeLee123
Summary: Pan is in love with an older man, but he can't see her as anything more than a yanki & a child. After a night of passion, their relationship slowly begins to crumble. One-sided love, backstabbing friends, dangerous enemies . . .Pan decides she doesn't want to be a yanki anymore. She wants out. * Rewrite of Pan the Yanki*
1. Yanki Desu

_I remember standing in front of Satan City Middle School, and I remember thinking," This school sucks."_

_Instead of attending class like I was supposed to like a good little ten-year old, I turned my back and headed to the arcade. My classmates were intimidated by me, my teachers constantly yelled at me for being outspoken, and I didn't have any friends. . . .so, the way I saw it, I didn't have a reason to go to school._

_My parents didn't care that I skipped school on a regular basis. Papa frowned when he got the call from the attendance lady, but there wasn't any punishment. He told Mama. _

_Mama frowned, maybe she thought she'd think of a punishment while she helped Papa in the Research and Development department of Capsule Corp, but I guess they forgot. . .my behavior was never corrected, so I continued to skip and only attended school when I felt like it, which was one day a week_

_Of course, with only the arcade to entertain me during school hours, it was only a matter of time before I fell into the wrong crowd._

_This is the story of how I became a yanki, and how my one-sided love for a much older man. . . helped me change._

* * *

_***This is a rewrite of my Pan the Yanki story, it's going to change dramatically, so hopefully it'll be better. Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope that I don't go overboard and have to rewrite the sequel. I've finally started to rewrite it for one reason, I drew a picture. This is the third story that i've written all because of a drawing i created. Well, let's see where it'll take me. . . .**_

**_This will change to rated M later, it's not 'bordering' M like last time._ **


	2. Hajimemashite

My fingers flip through the different CD's on the shelf, but I'm not paying attention to the titles. I'm too distracted by the police officer and the girl standing with her legs shoulder width apart, arms touching the top of her head, with furious outlined eyes blinking up at the ceiling.

"I didn't take anything," The girl scoffs, not looking away from the ceiling as the police officer pats her pockets.

The elderly clerk points his shaking finger at her." Then why did you run when the alarm went off?" He doesn't give her a chance to respond before yelling." I'll tell you why! It's because you're guilty! Well you've been caught red handed this time young lady!"

The girl's eyes snap onto the clerk. He grips his cane tightly, and pulls his shoulders back, trying to stand as tall as his curved back will allow him. Nobody notices his body tremble, or the sweat forming on his forehead, except for me.

"You're clean," The officer announces, sounding disappointed.

"What?" The girl and clerk ask at the same time.

"B-but that can't be!"

The officer shrugs.

"You didn't look good enough!" The clerk grumbles." I guess I'll check her, only way to have something done right is if you do it yourself!"

The girl recovers from her surprise and glowers at the clerk." Touch me and I'll send you to the grave early, old man."

I tap the bell on the desk. Three pairs of eyes focus on me. The girl's eyes widen at the object in my hand.

"Excuse me, but can I buy my CD now?"

The clerk grumbles, slowly inching his way to the register." I'm coming, I'm coming." He puts on the glasses tied to a red necklace around his neck, picks up the CD, squints at the title, then lifts his bushy eyebrows." Rock?"

I nod, grabbing a handful of candy and throwing it on the counter to be rung up.

The clerk raises the CD so the policemen can see it. " The music has turned to shit, I tell you."

The officer chuckles." Take it easy Toshiro." The bell above the door chimes as he opens it." Call me if you have anymore problems."

"Don't count on it," The clerk mutters to himself. He notices the girl staring at me." Why the hell are you still here? Get out, I don't need a good for nothing yanki stealing from my store!"

"Fuck you," The girl barks, raising her middle finger and backing out the door." And the only shitty music I see are the ones in this shitty, good for nothing store!"

The clerk shakes his fist in the air, his face turning red, no doubt wishing he could yell at the girl some more. I bet if he could, he would argue with her all day and make her life a living hell. I patiently wait for him to calm down a little before handing him the money. He snatches it from my hand and throws it in the register, not bothering to count it. Gee, I'm glad I gave him the exact amount.

"Back in my day that girl would've been disciplined! That's the problem with kids these days, they're not getting enough discipline and their lazy parents aren't teaching them any respect!" The clerk grins, swatting the counter with all his strength."If I were a younger man, I would teach that girl some respect the good old fashioned way- - with my bare hands!"

"If anyone needs to be taught respect the _good old fashioned way_ it's you, mister."

The man wheezes as he laughs.

I shake my head, grab my bag of items, and leave the store, deciding to never shop here again.

* * *

I pass a flower shop, a barber shop, and a small market before cutting through a dark alley. For someone like me, who has the ability to fly, every deserted alley is a short cut. Unfortunately, this isn't a deserted alley. The girl from the shop sneaks up from behind and pushes me against the brick wall. She gathers a handful of my hair and pins my face against the wall, muffling any screams I might make and to keep me from running.

If I were a normal girl I would be scared, and probably begging for my life, but I'm proud to say that I'm not a normal girl. Not by human standards, anyway.

"How did you do it?" She growls, her hand pulling painfully on my hair." Answer me!"

"Do what?" I ask, managing to turn my head away from the wall to actually breathe. If I knew she was going to grab my hair, I wouldn't have let her sneak up on me. I thought maybe she wanted to say thank you and become my friend, not attack me when my back is turned!

"You know _what_," She hisses, forcing more weight into her palms, trying to squish my head into the wall or something.

"You're going to have to be more specific," I grunt, trying to remember if I met this girl before today. We're not in the same school; she's too old to go to my school. Did she catch me flying one day? Is that why she cornered me in the alley? Did I steal the title of spelling bee champ from a little sister of hers or something?

"How did you get my CD! I had it hidden- -"

"Yeah, gross. I know where you hid it. . ." I shake the bag, reminding her I did manage to steal back the CD.

"But How?" She demands, smirking at my pained expression. Does she really have to pull my hair?" Everyone was watching me. That stupid old man and the police swine. . .there's no possible explanation as to how you managed to steal the CD without any of us seeing!"

"I'm really, really fast." I sigh." There, I told you. Now could you please let go of my hair?"

She doesn't say anything and she doesn't loosen her hold on me. That's it. I can't take much more of this! I release a small amount of chi, which is enough to blow her back against the opposite wall.

"Oww, that really hurt." I whine, feeling the back of my head to make sure there isn't a bald spot. It felt like she ripped out a good chunk of my hair, but I guess it was just a few strands.

The girl gets to her feet, wincing from the pain of hitting the wall with such force.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." I apologise, handing her the bag with the CD. I ate all of the candy during my short walk, so I don't mind if she takes the whole bag." Here, I bought this for you. Just promise me you wont steal anymore, okay?"

The girl tucks her long strands of hair behind her left ear. One red streak escapes and falls into her face. Her eyes narrow at the bag in my hand, then skims over my orange gi, seizing me up. " What, are you like the Karate Kid or something?"

Why does everyone assume I practice karate?

"I practice all forms of martial arts. My entire family- -" The girl snatches the bag from my hand and peers inside it." Um, everyone in my family knows some form of martial arts, but we mainly focus on kung fu and tai chi."

"I guess I should call you the Kung Fu Kid, huh?" The girl smirks.

"My name is Pan," I mumble, not liking the thought of being called anything besides my name." What's yours?"

"My gang calls me Ghost," She tosses the bag at me." And I don't need some kid buying me shit, alright? I owe plenty of people favors, don't need to add you to the list."

"You don't have to pay me back," I smush the bag against the exposed skin of her collar bone, where her white tank top doesn't cover." I thought you wanted the CD."

"I do."

"Then why wont you take it!"

Ghost stuffs her hands into her pockets, stubbornly refusing to take the gift. I stare at the black fabric of her long black pants, a little fascinated by the silver chains and silver studs decorating them. Wow, she is the coolest person I've ever met!

"Please take it, I want us to be friends."

Ghost sighs."I don't think your parents want you hanging out with a yanki." She groans, taking the bag from me." Guess this means I owe you one. Thanks."

"Are we friends?" I ask hopefully.

Ghost bites her lower, painted lip." I wouldn't say friends. . . more like, acquaintances."

My mood falls. This isn't what I was hoping for, but at least we could become friends someday.

"Want to hang out tomorrow afternoon, Ghost?"

She looks down the alley, troubled by something. I look down the alley too, but there's nothing there except a dead end and trash cans.

"I have to go," Ghost says, smiling sadly as she turns to me." Thanks again for what you did for me, Karate Kid."

I don't bother telling her that my name is Pan. Grinning like someone who just won the lottery, I watch Ghost run down the alley, kick off the brick wall, and flip over the fence, landing perfectly on the other side. She turns back, gives a final wink and sprints out of sight.

She was showing off, I know. But it worked, I was impressed. _She_ was impressive, for a human.

* * *

Mama is in the kitchen washing dishes when I come home. I run up to her and give her a big hug. "Mama, guess what? I made a new friend!"

"That's great Pan," Mama says, not looking away from the dish she's washing." Gohan, did you hear that?"

"Hmm?" Papa asks, focused on the scattered pieces of some type of invention he needs to put together on the table.

" I made a friend," I yell proudly, poking my chest with the tip of my thumb." Her name is Ghost. She's older than me, might be a high schooler. Isn't that cool? She also said she was a yanki. Papa, what's a yanki?"

I wait for Papa or Mama to answer.

"Hon, did Bulma hand you the instructions for how to build this knottscombuster? I can't figure it out." Papa leans closer to a round, popcorn shaped piece.

"I thought you said you didn't need instructions. . ." Mama teases.

Papa laughs.

I can't believe this!

"I'm going to rob a bank now. I'll be back in time for dinner." I tell them sarcastically, leaving the kitchen and stomping upstairs.

Faintly, I hear Papa say," Okay, have fun."


	3. Trunks-sensei

I haven't gone to school in three weeks, how can I when hanging out with Ghost is so much fun? Sometimes we paint different characters under bridges and on the walls of different buildings, sometimes she lets me ride on the back of her motorcycle and takes me to the beach, and sometimes we do nothing at all but be bored together. Always, she listens to me.

"I heard they're opening a new game in the arcade. It's supposed to be a lot of fun," I tell her while balancing on the top pole of the swings.

Ghost doesn't know about my family's secrets, but she knows there's something different about me. I'm stronger than most girls my age, and smarter, both results of my alien heritage. Showing her little bouts of my strength is the closest I've come to telling her my secret. I have a feeling she'll accept me no matter what I am but there's a simple rule every Saiyan must obey: only our mates, relatives, and past foes turned friend are allowed to know what we are.

It's all Goten's fault. If he hadn't told every new girl he dated our secrets on a daily basis, Vegeta would never have come up with that rule and regularly enforced it. There are some scars on my Uncle's body that will never heal, evidence of his stupidity and Vegeta's wrath.

I jump from the top of the swing, using some of my power to slow my fall so I land lightly, like a feather. Ghost used to clap enthusiastically, but she simply yawns. This is nothing new. She's used to seeing me show off and knows all my favorite tricks by now.

"When does it open?" She asks, not as excited about the new game as I am. But that's normal, Ghost never gets excited about anything.

"Tomorrow morning at eight." I sit next to her on the swing. This playground is very old, located behind an old school that hasn't been torn down yet. I know I'll never come here after dark or by myself, but Ghost likes it. She likes weird, lonely, most likely haunted places like these.

"Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"It's okay, nobody cares if I don't go to school."

She pauses, then says," I think you should go."

"Why?" I groan.

"Because. . .It's the law!" Ghost snaps her fingers, as if that will end the argument.

"If it's the law, then how come you don't go to school?" I retort, patiently waiting for her to respond.

"I'm a dumbass." She says simply, lighting the cigarette sticking out of her mouth.

"No you're not. I think you're really smart."

"Thanks," She coughs, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air.

"Can I try?" I ask, holding out my hand for the cigarette. She smiles, then hands it to me. I stick the orange part ( the butt) into my mouth like she did, holding it awkwardly between my fingers, and inhale. I immediately start gagging.

Ghost laughs, then takes the cigarette away from me.

"Eww," I cough, spitting out the nasty taste of the cigarette." Why do you smoke these?"

Ghost blows a cloud of smoke in my face just to make me cough some more. " It's like I said earlier, I'm a dumbass. I don't like smoking either, but it just feels wrong not to, you know?"

No I didn't know. Her explanation didn't make sense. But I didn't want to sound like an ignorant child in front of her, so I waved my hand in the air and snorted." Yeah, I totally get it."

Ghost smiles, flicks the cigarette on the ground, and crushes it with her boot." If you understand, then I guess this means you'll go to school tomorrow."

My mouth falls open slightly." When did I agree to _that_?"

Ghost's dark brown eyes sparkly slyly in the cloudy light, daring me to act like a child and argue with her some more.I lightly kick the pebbles by my feet and mutter," Alright, I guess I can go, but only if you promise to play the new game with me after school. Deal?"

I wait expectantly for her to agree, but Ghost is watching the swings furthest from us. A gust of wind blows through her hair, moving her favorite red streak across her face. Her eyes narrow at the swing moving from the strong push of the wind, making it appear as if someone invisible were using it.

"You should go home," Ghost says, still looking at the swing." I think I'll go home, too."

* * *

-The next day-

I sigh and raise my hand." I'm here."

The teacher looks up from his clipboard, eyes widening. My face turns red as everyone turns to look back at me ( I'm seated in the last row, the back of the class). I sink low in my seat, covering my face with my hand. Is it really that shocking to see me in class?

"Oh," The teacher quickly marks me as present instead of absent." It's nice of you to join us today, Son."

I smile, wishing everyone would stop looking me. " Thanks. I'm glad to be back Mr. . .um, Mr. . .Mr. Teacher."

The class giggles. I giggle with them.

"Okay, quiet down." The teacher chides, scratching the bald spot on the top of his head. I can tell he's a nice man, since he doesn't scold me for not knowing his name .

He sets his clipboard on the podium and smiles at everyone. We stop giggling, sensing he's patiently waiting for our attention. He clears his throat, glancing out the open door and into the hall." Class, as all of you know. Well. . ." His gaze settles on me for a second." As _most_ of you know, I'll be transferring in a couple of weeks."

The class bursts into_ Awwws_. I "_awww_" too, wishing I could've had more time to get to know him better. Nice teachers are hard to come by.

The teacher quickly wipes his eyes, overwhelmed by his students' affection for him." I'll miss you too guys, but don't worry. I'm leaving you in good hands." He looks to the open door, all of us turn our heads to look too." Which is why I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Briefs."

My gasp echoes in the quiet room. All heads turn to look at me instead of the lavender haired man dressed in a brown business suit entering the room.

"Do you know- -" The teacher begins, but I quickly stand from my desk and cut him off.

"What's Trunks doing here!" I shout, pointing a finger at him. All heads turn to Trunks. Trunks' eyes widen, he's surprised to see me too, but doesn't blush from all the attention.

"I. . ." Trunks speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully.". . .Work here now, Pan. Is that okay?"

Everyone turns their heads back at me, wondering what I'll say. I should say no, Trunks wont work here if I say no. I can already imagine him nagging me to do my homework or tattling on me to Grandma, Mama or Papa about everything I do- - including skipping school! Mama and Papa will listen to Trunks, they might actually discipline me if Trunks brings it to their attention. If they don't, Grandma certainly will! She doesn't know that I miss school a lot!

My pointing finger bends, unsure of my answer. It'd be selfish of me to tell Trunks he can't work here. It wouldn't be fair. Life is unfair enough, why should I make it any worse?

"I guess you can stay," I grumble through clenched teeth, already regretting my answer.

I cross my arms over my chest and sink low into my seat while Mr. Teacher introduces his new aide, Trunks, to the rest of the class. Trunks doesn't do much except observe Mr. Teacher- - who's name is actually Mr. Parker- - from a stool in the corner of the room, occasionally getting up to pass out papers.

-hours later-

Since I'm in the last row, I have to wait for everyone else to file out of the room after the last bell rings, signalling the end of school. I groan when Trunks rests his hand on my left shoulder, keeping me from escaping.

"Uhhhh," I groan, wanting so badly to leave school and meet Ghost at the arcade." This better be important Trunks! I have a life too you know!"

Trunks' eyes widen, surprised by my lack of manners. My bad manners always surprises him it seems." I just thought we should talk about this Pan. I'll be your new teacher in a couple of weeks, are you really okay with this?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Just keep your nose out of my business and I'll keep mine out of yours." I glance back at the clock, wishing our little chat would end soon. I can already imagine how many kids are lining up to play the new game. And how long will Ghost wait for me to show up? If I don't leave soon, she may never agree to play with me at the arcade again! Ghost isn't exactly the patient type.

"Would you like to know why I'm teaching instead of working at Capsule Corporation?"

"Depends, is this something you're going to share with all of your students?"

"No." Trunks says slowly.

I shrug." Hey, if you're going through a mid-life crisis, then I completely understand. But don't dump the weight of your troubles on my shoulders, I'm just a kid Trunks!"

"Mid life. . .Is that what you think this is? How old do you think I am!" Trunks lifts his hand from my shoulder, too shocked to keep it there I guess. Yay I'm free!

I don't answer his question. Instead I wink, stick out my tongue in a teasing manner, and bolt out the door. Trunks is an old man, but I know he couldn't be going through a mid-life crisis yet. He's only twenty-four. Still, he's practically a dinosaur compared to me.

I stop running, realising I'm going through a mid-life crisis too. Is that possible? Can eleven year olds really have a mid-life crisis? I shrug, and continue running, making a mental note to ask Papa more about it later.


End file.
